


Take A Load Off

by TinyMog



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Childhood Friends, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, M/M, Mild Language, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Post-Canon, eventually, messy sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 17:59:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18554899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyMog/pseuds/TinyMog
Summary: The war is over and Python has settled down in the country, seemingly leaving the past behind him. But things get a bit more complicated when Forsyth visits unexpectedly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I always found it interesting that the epilogue at the end of the game changed for Forsyth based on whether or not Python lives. If he dies, Forsyth gets married, if he lives, he visits him often and they drink a lot. This story explores the latter.

 I lay in the shade of a tree in my back yard, stretching out my long legs and resting my head on folded arms. I close my eyes and feel a gentle breeze tease my hair.  
   It's a beautiful day. A beautiful day to do absolutely nothing.  
   A few months ago I was traveling around the whole bloody world with Alm, Clive, and Lukas, not knowing if I'd make it through the day or not. Now, I have my own land in the countryside and the best part; no one giving me orders.  
   I haven't really seen any of the others since we kicked the crap out of Duma. But I'm sure they're all far too busy to care. Fine by me, I'm too lazy to. They invited me to Alm and Celica's wedding slash coronation at the beginning of spring but I didn't go. Forsyth wrote me at least half a dozen letters about how insensitive and rude that was, and how I belonged there with the rest of the company. I didn't want to be seen as some kind of hero though. I'm not the hero type, never have been. I'm just a guy who did what he had to. Still, it was pretty nice hearing from the guy. In truth that's the one thing I do miss about traveling. I will never miss the long grueling marches, nights of only eating cold stew, and countless near-death experiences, but I will miss seeing Forsyth everyday.

  We've been friends ever since we were kids. We would play in the woods most of the time. He'd pick up some stick, sit on a log, and pretend he was a cavalier with a lance. I usually wanted to just sleep or read but he always tried to get me to play too.  
   "Come on Pyth! We gotta save the princess! Your kingdom needs you!" He'd whine.  
   "No, it doesn't." I'd say.  
   "Well, maybe not. But I do." He'd said shyly. I could never say no when he talked real quiet like that. It was just so different than his usual gung ho attitude that it always got my attention.  
   "Fine." I'd answer rolling my eyes.  
   "Yay! Onward my trusty companion!"  
   I smile to myself at the memory. He was such a total dork. Well... He's kinda the same actually. In fact the conversation we had when he asked me to join the Deliverance with him went pretty much the same.  
   He left home to take up a cause, become a knight, and prove that it's not about where you come from that decides a man's worth. I went because he asked me to. And because I knew I would kill myself if he came home in a box and I could have somehow prevented it by going. So I kept honing my skill with the bow and during the war watched him from a distance, taking out anyone who tried to hurt him.  
   Gods, looking back I sound damn obsessed with the guy... Well, maybe I do feel a little more than just a bond of friendship toward him... Oh, what am I talking about?! It doesn't matter anyway... He's off and busy with Clive in King Alm's new army. Serving the realm, protecting the people and all that jazz. I'm sure he's forgotten all about me. And good riddance too! All he does is yell at me and tell me to try harder or do more work. Who needs him? I'm much happier on my own.  
  
   I fall asleep with all these thoughts on my mind. And I'm awoken sometime later by a horse's whinny. My first thought is, 'Why in steaming hell is there a horse on my lawn?' I groan and get up to my feet and turn toward the sound. The sunset behind the horse and rider makes it hard to make out a face.  
   "You better have a good reason for waking me up." I say stretching.  
   The rider dismounts and says, "I like to think so." That voice...  
   "Forsyth?" I say, arms dropping to my side. He steps closer and his face comes into view. Pale skin, green hair and eyes, and a confident smile.  
   "It's good to see you, Python." He says.  
   "What in bloody hell are you doing here?!" I burst out.  
   He stands rigid and stares at me solemnly. "A, 'Hello, Forsyth.' would have sufficed," he says.  
   "Yeah, yeah, right. Hey, Forsyth. Umm- How are you?" Gods I sure am awkward...  
   "That was pathetic, Python." I roll my eyes. He's right though... "But I don't care." He says and then quickly pulls me into a hug, trapping my arms against my sides. It's uncomfortable, the plates of his armour digs into my chest and shoulders and for a second I'm too stunned to react. "By Mila I missed you, Pyth." He says quietly.  
   I bury my face into the small visible area of bare skin at his neck. His smell is so familiar... Like pine, and the oil used to polish armour. I've missed him too. So much. I'd never tell him that of course. He wouldn't believe it anyhow. He doesn't believe me capable of caring about anything but myself really. But that's fine. Totally fine.  
   As quick as it came the hug is over and his hands are on my shoulders as he assesses my face with the scrutiny of an elderly woman buying eggs.  
   "You look good." He says matter of factly.  
   I push his hands away. "What did I look bad before?"  
   He crosses his arms. "No, of course not. I only mean that I was worried you hadn't been taking care if yourself. But the country air seems to have done you some good."  
   "Yeah, the only thing I have to do out here is take care of myself. I don't have to worry about anything, or anyone, else."  
   He nods and look down for a moment before asking, "This pleases you?"  
   "Absolutely." I say automatically. He doesn't need to know it can get lonely as hell.  
   "Then I'm very happy for you, Pyth." He claps his hands together, startling me. "Now, do have somewhere I can board my horse? I plan on staying the night."  
   "You want to what?!" My voice comes out more high-pitched than I'd like.  
   He sighs deeply. "I brought booze."  
   "Right this way, Sir."  
   "Honestly, Python you never change."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God this fic is such a mess. I have no plan and it's been a long time since I played the game and since I started writing it, so sorry if there's inconsistencies. I'm just trying really hard to do finish it at this point.

 "Yeah, yeah I know. Anyway the barn's down this way."  
   Forsyth takes his horse by the reins and follows me down the hill. We pass my gardens and the unfinished tool shed I'm building. "You build?" He asks. "I don't think I've even seen you hold a hammer before."  
   "I picked it up after I put down the bow." I reply cooly, not turning around.  
   "You- you don't shoot anymore?"  
   "Nope."  
   "Pyth-"  
   "Here we are," I say pushing the sliding door open, intentionally cutting him off. I'd rather not talk about fighting or weapons until I've at least had some some of that ale he mentioned. He doesn't seem to mind and leads the horse inside. "I'm gonna go make sure the house is all set," I say as he starts taking off the tack.  
   I make my way back up the path and towards the house. Damn, it sure is weird having him here. He seems the exact same as I remember, steady, responsible, optimistic. But I'm not sure I am. The same that is.  
   The war, the endless fighting, as well as coming face to face with a literal god... it took a toll on me. Enough that running off to the countryside alone seemed like my only option. Meanwhile he seems untouched by it all. Does that make me weak? Or maybe he's just strong. I shake my head, as I open my front l door. Of course he is. I always knew he was.  
  
   A few minutes of frenzied tidying later and Forsyth comes in as I'm stoking the fire. He's removed the outer layer of his armour, wearing only an olive knit shirt, tan pants, and thin leather boots. His arms are holding a crate with several bottlenecks visible over the edge.  
   "Now we're talking." I say going to take it from him, our fingers touching for a moment. I quickly set it down on the kitchen table and go to fetch a corkscrew. "One thing sorely lacking out here in the boonies is some decent ale."  
   "It ought to be good, it's leftovers from King Alm's coronation banquet."  
   "You serious?"  
   "Yes, though don't hold me to it as I haven't sampled any yet."  
   "Whattya mean?" I say, picking out one to open, "You went didn't ya?"  
   "Yes of course, but it felt wrong to toast without you, so I saved some until I could come and visit."  
   My hand feels sweaty and I almost drop the bottle. I clear my throat, "You, uh, didn't have to do that."  
   "I know." I look up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time since he came inside. The golden light that pours in from the setting sun outside makes him look... soft? I don't know. But my palms are still sweaty.  
   "Uh, why don't we sit down?"  
   "Right of course."  
   I remove the cork with a pop as he sits down on the bench that's sidled up along side the long wooden table. I do the same, putting a bit of space between us.  
   He's sitting rigid, like a soldier under inspection and seems to be observing my every move. It's a bit unnerving. I slide him his drink and bring my feet up. "Relax, man," I say nudging him with my foot. "Take a load off, have some drinks with me."  
   "Right... Sorry." He holds up his glass, smiling, "To old friends and new lives."  
   "Sure, pal." I say knocking our cups together before taking a large drink. "It's good, real good. Fit for a king." I chuckle, "Speaking of kings, how is the happy couple anyway? You told me a bit in your letters but it's been a while since the last one."  
   "They're doing quite well. In fact they're expecting a child."  
   "Already? Damn. Hope they're ready for that."  
   "I don't think anyone is ever ready for their first child." I shrug and take another drink. "Do you want kids, Pyth?" I choke.  
   "Wh- what?" I sputter, gasping for air.  
    He runs a hand through his hair, "Have you ever thought about having kids? I thought the question was simple enough."  
   "I- No, Forsyth I've never seen myself having kids." After all this time he still thinks I'm- that I shoot straight so to speak. Maybe it's an archer thing... That guy who was a part of Celica's army (Leon I think it was?) was also gay as fuck but I'd like to think I'm slightly more subtle than him.  
   "Not even if you met the right girl?"  
   Apparently more subtle than I thought. "Nope. Wouldn't happen. Besides I prefer it to just be me." Deep down I'm not sure that's true. I prefer when there's someone I can trust at my side. Too bad he's the only one I trust and that he picked the others over me...  
   "So... You're really happy here then?"  
   "Yeah. I am." It's true. I think.  
   "Good. That's really good, Python." He says it kinda sadly, though. "I was worried about you."  
   "Yeah you said that earlier."  
   "Yes, but I was also worried that you felt as if I'd abandoned you."  
   "Well, maybe a bit," I laugh, "But I get it, Forsyth I really do, being a knight is your dream. It wouldn't be fair of me to take that from you."  
   "But what about your dreams, is this really all you want?"  
   "C'mon man you can't ask me that."  
   He furrows his brow. "What do you mean?"  
  "Nevermind. Besides I don't really have dreams." I take a long drink. "I have plenty of nightmares, though."  
    He puts his cup down. "You do?"  
   Fuck, I didn't mean to say that. I forgot he doesn't understand my dark humor, and how it helps me cope in a way. I turn away from him, unable to meet those caring green eyes, it's gotten dark out now and the only sources of light are the fire and a few candles on the table. I stare into the flickering light, "Yeah, just some stuff from the war, it's not a big deal."  
   "The hell it's not, Python!"  
   "It's not like you can do anything about it."  
   "Maybe not but if I had known you were suffering here all alone I'd have tried harder to get a few days leave much earlier than this."  
   "I know you would. That's partly why I didn't tell you. You have responsibilities and shit. You can't be rushing out here everytime I wake up screaming to hold me like my goddamn mother."  
   I turn to look at him, he's moved closer and his hand his on my arm and by Mila I want to put down this cup and reach out to touch him back. It'd be easier than trying to say anything more. I drink instead.  
   "Python," he whispers. It's hard hearing his voice like this. It's quiet, caring, subdued. I know he cares about me, I've always known. But I think I'm only just now realizing how I care about him. It took us being apart for me to see it and now that's he's back it's almost unbearable. I'm painfully aware of his hand still on my arm, the warmth and weight feels like it's gonna burn a hole in my shirt. Maybe it's the alcohol? Damn he's just so close... And it's not like he's never been this close before. When we were kids, on the battlefield...  
   It shouldn't be different but it is. Then I had the safety of military regulations. Closeness was labeled camaraderie and longing was chalked up to loyalty. No one in the Deliverance batted an eye when we pushed our cots together in the tent and laid pressed up against eachother. They didn't seem to mind when we would spar and the touches lasted a bit longer than they should have.  
   But now, that the excuses of, 'it's cold', 'it's just playfulness between friends', and "it's because we're touch deprived soldiers', is gone I wonder if maybe we've always been like this and I'm just too dumb to have noticed.  
   It feels like an eternity has passed but it's probably only been a few seconds. He finally removes his hand and seems to concede that I'm not gonna say anymore about it.  
   I pour another glass, hoping that the warm numbing effect will kick in soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully things get spicier in the next chapter. This was boring to write. I've been having a hard time writing lately and like I said I started the first chapter a long time ago so connecting the two was iffy. Anyway hope you liked it regardless.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked the first chapter! Things will start heating up in the ones to come, so stay tuned.


End file.
